


Rules

by maybe_i_dont_want__heaven



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Praise Kink (Good Omens), Dinner, Established Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Teasing, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:16:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21867373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybe_i_dont_want__heaven/pseuds/maybe_i_dont_want__heaven
Summary: Aziraphale sets some rules for dinner. Crowley happily obeys them.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 167





	Rules

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is the first fic I've ever written so pls be gentle lol. But I hope you enjoy!  
> \--  
> Also, huge thanks to [coshie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coshie/pseuds/coshie) ([effable-ineffability on tumblr](https://effable-ineffability.tumblr.com/)!) for being an amazing beta reader and more importantly, friend that inspired me to try writing in the first place because she's just so freakin' good at it <3

Crowley had slept just about every night for the last six millennia.

  
He very often dreamed, consisting of temptations and desires, although not of his own. No, he rarely had the luxury of dreaming about Aziraphale, especially when their bodies were what felt like lightyears apart and his subconscious wanted him most.

  
Dreaming of Aziraphale was the green light across the lake, beautiful to witness, but just out of his reality’s reach.

* * *

Moving into the bookshop after the apocalypse-that-wasn’t was full of surprises for Crowley. Nothing major, as he knew his angel pretty well at that point, just small things that often went unnoticed until two people occupy the same space. Like the way the light from the morning sun beamed perfectly into their bedroom around eight every morning or how absolutely wrecked Aziraphale’s hair was when he woke up but always ended up in perfect blond curls before he sauntered downstairs for breakfast.

  
The biggest surprise for Crowley, however, was his dreams. They had rarely been very personal before, even the ones about Aziraphale were more work-related than anything else. But that had changed, and it was something Crowley could very much get used to.

  
At first Crowley had been quiet about his dreams. Many of them had been very risqué (a surprise to him, but not all to Aziraphale when Crowley later told him) and he and Aziraphale hadn’t quite made it to that point in their relationship yet; but that was months ago, things had changed, and they had both very much gotten used to it. Aziraphale started getting in the habit of asking Crowley about his dreams in the morning, although sometimes he forgot since this was a new habit and he was very much set in his solo routine.

* * *

“Good morning angel,” Crowley said through a yawn.

  
“Good morning love,” Aziraphale responded, peering over his book to give Crowley a smile with his words. “How’d you sleep?”

  
“Ssssssooo good,” he said as he stretched out across the bed, “couldn’t’ve been better. You?”

  
“I’m glad. My sleep was wonderful, dear.” One more moment of his heart melting smile, and Aziraphale was back to reading his book.

  
This was the moment Aziraphale would usually inquire about Crowley’s dream, but he was reading _Pride and Prejudice_ , one of his favorites, so his falter in procedure couldn’t be held too tightly against him.

  
Crowley’s gaze lingered on Aziraphale, waiting with honey-dipped eyes that would’ve pierced directly through Aziraphale’s soul if he had been paying the demon any mind. Crowley had had a particularly fantastic dream that night involving a certain scenario he’d thought about a million times while awake, but for some reason had never told Aziraphale about. He figured this would be the perfect time to tell the angel about this particular fantasy, because if he wasn’t interested in actually seeing it through, then Crowley could just chalk it up to telling him about the random dream he had. But if he was interested, then Crowley could see if reality was even better than his dreams as it so often had been ever since Aziraphale first kissed him. He was just gonna have to get _Pride and Prejudice_ away from Aziraphale long enough to tell him.

  
Crowley cuddled closer to Aziraphale and started with a gentle kiss to his outer thigh. Next was a kiss to his hip and then to his rib cage, snaking his body between Aziraphale and his book, making his way up to the angel’s lips.

  
“Hi,” Crowley whispered through an innocent grin, centimeters from Aziraphale’s face. Aziraphale knew when he wanted attention, which wasn’t hard because it was all the time. But Crowley usually settled for his head in the angel’s lap while he was reading without disturbing him, so Aziraphale knew he wanted undivided attention now.

  
“Hi Crowley,” he said while setting down his book, “is there something I can help you with, my dear?”

  
“Oh nothing, just wondered if you fancied a chat.” Crowley wasn’t fooling anyone with his attempt at nonchalance, especially not Aziraphale, but the angel played along just to see where this was going.

  
“And what would you like to chat about, love?” he asked with the gentlest of ocean eyes, pulling Crowley into the depths of Aziraphale’s love and putting him at ease.

  
Oh, those eyes turned Crowley into a puddle of his former self, but they had their intended effect.

  
“I had a dream about you last night, well, erm, about us, I guess,” he blurted out. “It was, y’know, sexual…. If you wanted to maybe hear about it,” he finished quickly with a little bit of worry creeping back into his face as it usually did in these sorts of moments. He knew Aziraphale always wanted to hear about his dreams, sexual or not, but that didn’t mean he was quite used to it yet.

  
“Of course, go on,” Aziraphale assured him.

  
“Okay, so, we were eating dinner– well, you were eating dinner and I was drinking like usual.” Crowley could feel his heart starting to speed up, and he wasn’t even to the sexual part yet. It seemed to be from terrified anticipation for how Aziraphale was going to react mixed with the excitement of this scenario actually happening. But the way Aziraphale kept looking at him gave him enough confidence to get it out with a surprising newfound confidence.

  
“You looked at me and told me to… to entertain myself since you were ssssooo busy indulging in every luxury food item the Ritz has to offer.” His voice was dripping with sexual connotation, landing on Aziraphale’s skin like wax from a melting candle being held overhead.

  
Aziraphale’s eyes lit up. He seemed to be just as excited as Crowley at the prospect of this endeavor, but he waited to see if Crowley would continue. He didn’t. The details were a little harder for him to muster with the same amount of confidence, so he sat there waiting for Aziraphale to say something, anything.

  
“Well, my boy, you have quite the imagination. What do you think brought on this dream?”

  
“Oh I don’t know, maybe watching you eat for thousands of years,” Crowley said, sarcasm inching into his tone as his lips twitched towards a smirk,” and hearing every moan that a crepe draws out of you, or a steak, or piece of cake, and being able to do nothing but watch. Don’t get me wrong, I love to watch, but doing more would be so much fun. Just a thought.”

  
“And is this something you might want to recreate?”

  
“Uhhh… well I, uh, if _you_ wanted to, maybe, I mean, we don’t have to, just thought it might be, y’know, fun. Maybe. If we wanted to try it.”

  
“Crowley, you’re rambling dear,” Aziraphale said gently.

  
“S-sorry.” At this point, he was sitting in Aziraphale’s lap, staring down at his hands as if the next coherent set of words he should say were written on them.

  
“I would love to do that with you.”

  
Crowley’s head shot up with no concern for his human body’s neck. “You would?”

  
“If it’ll make you happy, then of course I would. And I have to admit, it’s something I may have thought about one or twenty times before as well.”

  
Crowley looked at him dumbfounded but elated. He didn’t know why he still doubted Aziraphale’s willingness to try new sex things with him; they had done more risqué things than this, but being open about his desires was still a fresh, open wound that was sensitive to the touch and would need to scar over to heal.

  
“We don’t have reservations anywhere tonight,” Aziraphale mused. “Perhaps we should get a fancy takeaway and eat in the backroom tonight?”

All Crowley could do was nod and smile at his angel. It was moments like these that set his heart on fire like Aziraphale had turned his love into a match and struck it across Crowley’s chest.

* * *

“Crowley!” Aziraphale’s voice rang through the shop. “Could you get the door, I think it’s the food delivery person.” He was sitting in the back corner of the shop cataloguing new books and didn’t want to be interrupted if he could help it since he was almost done.

  
“I got it, angel!” Crowley yelled back. He had already been sitting by the front window pretending to read, although he had actually been people watching the humans that walked by while waiting impatiently for the food to arrive. The day had gone by agonizingly slow, his only thoughts being dinner and the night ahead. He didn’t actually mind the waiting though; it built up the anticipation and excitement, which was half the fun.

  
The demon walked into the back room holding several boxes of takeaway from the Ritz (they didn’t usually deliver, but Aziraphale’s call to them earlier had been very persuasive). “I got the takeaway, ang– What the?” As he turned the corner there was a very fancy table in the middle of the room, set completely with plates, silverware, wine glasses, the whole lot.

  
“Do you like it?” Aziraphale asked happily. “I thought this would be better than eating on the couch like we usually do, don’t you think?”

  
Crowley continued walking forward, still in a little bit of shock that Aziraphale went through the trouble of setting all of this up. “It looks great, love.”

  
“Oh good, I was hoping you would like it. Makes it feel more like we’re at the Ritz itself,” Aziraphale said with a grin and a tiny pep in his step. “Let me set up the food while you pick out a nice wine for us. Something to go well with the salmon.”

  
“Sounds like a plan, be right back.” Crowley walked into the wine cellar looking for one specific wine he had in mind. It had popped into his head as soon as Aziraphale said salmon.

  
“Ah here you are, you little bugger.” The bottle had been hiding behind a few larger bottles, making it near impossible to see. It was a chardonnay from France that came from the same vineyard they had visited together several decades ago. Paris had always been one of Crowley’s favorite places (it being the city of love was just a coincidence if you asked him) and being there with Aziraphale made it all the more special.

  
He sat the wine down on the table where Aziraphale was already sitting and poured some into both of their glasses. He took a big gulp of his before he even sat down.

  
Aziraphale was staring at him and waited for him to get comfortable before he spoke. “Are you sure you want to do this?” They both knew sometimes the demon’s nerves got the better of him, even if they were more so from excitement than actual nervousness, and every so often he needed to calm down before they could actually begin.

  
But Crowley was ready and gave Aziraphale a simple _yup_ in response.

  
“Perfect. Now, I’ve been thinking about this throughout the day and I have some conditions. Just two rules I want you to follow, if you’re okay with that.”

  
Crowley’s intrigue showed on his face, indicating to Aziraphale to continue.

  
“Rule one – you have to be quiet. No noises from you whatsoever. And rule two – you can’t finish until I finish eating. And if you follow my rules, you’ll get a reward afterwards. How does that sound?”

  
Crowley’s gulp could’ve been heard outside the bookshop if anyone had been walking by at that moment. “I-I think I can do that,” he managed faintly. “For you.” Thinking about the rules was already making him a little hard, which wasn’t gonna help in his attempt to last the length of Aziraphale’s meal.

  
“Splendid! Let’s starts with appetizers then, shall we, dear boy?” Aziraphale delicately transferred the crab cakes from the takeaway box to his plate while Crowley watched.

  
He had already started absent-mindedly running the palm of his hand up and down his thigh out of habit and decided moving it inward towards his growing erection was a good move. Oh he was right, already stifling an unexpected whimper with his other arm.

  
Aziraphale was using a fork and knife to cut his crab cakes unnecessarily slow, bringing the pieces to his mouth in the manner he always did, ending with a contented moan and satisfied smile.

  
Fighting the urge to speed up his motions, Crowley tried focusing on the food itself instead of the way Aziraphale was eating it. He wasn’t the biggest fan of crab cakes, but they seemed like the best food in the world to him at that moment. Aziraphale was dipping them in tartar sauce, and when some dripped down the side of his mouth, Crowley found himself reflexively reaching out to wipe it up for him before stopping. “No touching” wasn’t explicitly stated in the rules, but he felt it was implied.

  
Aziraphale wiped it up with his own finger, sticking it in his mouth to suck it clean in a much more obscene manner than Crowley felt was necessary. The wet little _pop_ it made when he pulled out his finger was enough to drive Crowley mad with want, his head dropping back to hit the chair so he could breathe for a moment. He was fully hard now inside his leather trousers, fighting the miracle perched right at the edge of his brain that was threating to jump off at any moment that would get rid of them. Just a few more bites and Aziraphale would be done with his appetizer, and a few mores strokes through his pants and Crowley would remove them, but the old-fashioned way because it took more time.

  
Aziraphale took his last bite of the crab cakes, staring directly into golden, dilated eyes that tried to look away but couldn’t. One more sip of his wine and the next course would start.

  
The moment the salmon hit Aziraphale’s plate, Crowley’s hands surged for his button and zipper. However, despite his growing eagerness, he wanted this to be slow. A little show for his lover, a little temptation he couldn’t pass up in the mist of his pleasure. He rose out of his chair just enough to slide the trousers down from his hips and around his thighs. He’d chosen boxers for this occasion to take advantage of their easy access while still keeping them in place, for now.

  
Aziraphale – attempting but failing to act like he didn’t notice – gave a small sideways smirk and raised his eyebrow just a bit. Easy to miss if not paying attention, but of course Crowley was. Aziraphale cut the salmon just as slow and precise as he had done with the crab cakes, but his satisfied moans increased tenfold with each bite.

  
Crowley’s hand finally reached his leaking cock, stroking it as slowly as he could manage. His other hand in a fist against his teeth, suppressing the noises he was desperate to make but couldn’t risk letting out for fear of the unstated consequences.

  
Between bites Aziraphale silently miracled a bottle of lube next to Crowley on the table, feigning innocence in his lack of eye contact.

  
Crowley’s eyes grew big for a moment in his surprise, but quickly put his gift to use. He had managed to keep his strokes at a relatively slow, steady pace up until this point, but lube made it that much harder for him. He didn’t know how much longer he was gonna last, but he needed whatever reward Aziraphale had in mind, and that meant not breaking any of the rules. He took a long sip of wine and waited for dessert.

  
Aziraphale had decided on pound cake with whipped cream and blackberries for dessert and oh how Crowley wished it was being eaten off of him right now instead of a plate. The strokes to his cock increased in speed and grip, and he was panting now, desperately trying not to, desperately trying to be _good_ for his angel. He knew he could hold on a little bit longer if Aziraphale could eat just a little bit faster. He pleaded with soft, watery eyes, hoping his point would get across without words.

  
The Ritz’s pound cake was the best in London, so Aziraphale taking big bites out of it wasn’t necessarily to help Crowley, it’s just how it demanded to be eaten. He had two bites left when he looked up and noticed just how much of a wreck Crowley was. His hands were shaking slightly, breath heavy, and he was staring at Aziraphale’s mouth, not wanting to miss a single moment of anything he put into it.

  
For his last bite of dessert, Aziraphale made sure to look Crowley in the eyes, pale blue connecting to honey gold like the world depended on it.

  
The fork left Aziraphale’s lips and Crowley came with a sound he didn’t know he could make, making a mess all over his chest and even managing to hit his chin. He really hadn’t been focused on his aim.

  
As Crowley slowly came back into himself, he found that Aziraphale was now standing over him with a slight smirk. And as he watched, Aziraphale leaned forward, resting his hands on the armrests of Crowley’s chair, and licked a line of come from his collarbone to chin, humming his satisfaction along the way.

  
“You are the best thing I’ve tasted tonight, dear,” he said while sitting back in his own chair, drinking in the sight of his disheveled demon, still continuing eye contact. Crowley’d lost the ability to form sentences for at least another two minutes, so the strangled noise that came from his throat was the only response he could manage.

  
Giving Crowley a minute to recover, Aziraphale gathered the dishes and takeaway boxes and took them to the kitchen. Upon returning, he refilled their glasses with wine and sat back down in front of his still slightly shaken demon.

  
“Are you ready for your reward, love? You were so good for me, and I do think you’ve earned it.”

  
The twitch of Crowley’s cock at those words was the only response he needed. In one swift move, he scooped Crowley out of his chair and had them both on the couch. Demon hands clutched the back of it, while angel fingers wrapped around bony hips, dipping just underneath the waistband of boxers.

  
Needing a verbal answer before starting, Aziraphale whispered another ‘ _are you ready?_ ’ in his lover’s ear, rubbing his own erection against the back of Crowley’s thigh.

  
Between his gasp of surprise and strangled moan at the sudden contact, he managed to get out a “yes, _please_ , angel.”

  
He decided to start with a kiss to Crowley’s jaw, traveling down his neck, taking his shirt off as he went. The path continued down his back, between his shoulder blades where his wings would be in another dimension, receiving a full body shiver in response. His hands dipped back below Crowley’s boxers, finding his aching cock, already hard again and waiting. He gave it a few good strokes before pushing the boxers down around his thighs where his trousers still remained.

  
“Angel, I need,” Crowley said between heavy breaths, not really knowing what he was asking for, but needing anything more that the angel would give.

  
Aziraphale wasn’t keen on making him wait much longer since he had been so patient all night. He stepped back off the couch to remove his necessary clothing.

  
“You did such a good job for me tonight Crowley. I’m so proud of you for following my rules. I know you’re generally against rules, and have somewhat of a tendency to break them, if I do recall.”

  
“W-would do anything for you angel, want to make y-you happy.”

  
Aziraphale returned to the couch, as he knelt behind Crowley, he let his hands wander for just a moment to give the demon a little warning of what was coming.

  
Crowley’s head fell forward, he focused on a miracle to prepare himself; he hummed a response to Aziraphale to let him know.

  
Aziraphale had grabbed the bottle of lube while undressing and squirted some into his hand. He gave himself a few strokes, unable to hold in the moan that rose out of his throat and deposited it into Crowley’s shoulder.

  
A single “ _fuck_ ” escaped Crowley’s lips and he pushed his bum back to encourage the angel to continue onward.

  
Aziraphale pushed in slowly, eliciting the tender sob he knew it would bring out of Crowley. Each thrust gained a new vigor and new praise and the angel’s hands found their way back to his hips for better leverage.

  
“So good. For me. So nice. And thoughtful. My love.”

  
“Pleassse. I-I’m close. Touch m-me.”

  
Aziraphale reached around, running his thumb across the tip before grazing his palm gently up the shaft until he felt auburn flamed curls. His hands soon sped up their strokes to match the rest of his body’s restored rhythm.

  
“Do you like that, my dear?” A rhetorical question that Aziraphale nevertheless loved to see the demon’s answer to.

  
Crowley nodded his head a little more intensely than was strictly necessary, accompanied by a sob that _almost_ resembled a yes.

  
Aziraphale hadn’t noticed how much of a mess he was himself until that moment when Crowley clenched around his cock, bracing for orgasm, and it sent his mind into a daze.

  
Two more thrusts and Crowley was coming all over the couch with Aziraphale’s name on his lips like a prayer that had to be said lest he lose his gift from God Herself.

  
Aziraphale was right behind him, filling his demon completely while letting out a moan in Crowley’s ear that was more animalistic than angelic, but the best sound Crowley had ever heard in his 6,000-year existence.

  
They stayed intertwined for a few minutes while their breathing slowed and Aziraphale peppered soft kisses along his shoulders and neck. He pulled out slowly and laid them both down on the couch. Miracling a damp towel, he began to wipe up their mess, as he preferred a more intimate clean up over a fast one.

  
“I love you, angel,” Crowley mumbled. “Thanks for… um, tonight.”

  
“I love you too, Crowley. Anything for you.”

  
Aziraphale wrapped them up with their favorite blanket and Crowley started to drift towards sleep.

  
“Sweet dreams, love.”


End file.
